On Saturday I Almost Had a Heart Attack on Three Separate Occasions

Saturday was a stressful, jam-packed day for your corpulent correspondent. I nearly had a heart attack on three separate occasions, and was on the verge of tears at least once. Way too much emotion for my tastes…

I worked the night before, and got up earlier than normal to attend our oldest son’s last swim meet. I’d already gone to his final home meet, but this was the last one of them all: district championships in Wilkes-Barre.

It was a struggle getting off the platform after so little sleep, and my brain wasn’t working correctly. I left the house when I’d planned, but somehow got lost. My mind was drifting, and I drove straight past the exit. I got off the next chance I had, and planned to just jump back on 81, and back-track.

But, I ended up WAY off course, driving through residential areas I’d never seen before, totally and completely lost. I was convinced I was going to miss his final races, and my heart was hammering in my chest. It didn’t help matters when he texted and said, “Are you here?”

Dammit! I felt like I’d passed through some kind of portal, and was now in a time before the interstate system was built. Only the occasional check-cashing places, with bars on the windows, shattered the illusion.

Eventually I found 81 again, and tore ass toward Wilkes-Barre. I was driving almost 90 mph, and was fully expecting to be pulled over by one of those cops with the chin strap that goes below the mouth, and not the chin. But, my crime went unpunished.

And as I was walking into the facility, the boy’s first event of the day was starting. He was literally standing on the block, and dove in as I came rushing into the building. Whew! I’d made it, barely. I was certainly wide awake now. Shit.

I saw all his final races, including the last one of them all… the 100 backstroke. It was sad, and I had a lump in my throat the whole time. I don’t think most people understand how much of a time commitment swimming is, and he’s been at it competitively, since he was 8. It’s been a HUGE part of his life, and ours. And now it was coming to an end.

After the race he texted me, and asked me to meet him downstairs. He was barely holding it together: really emotional. The finality of it all was doing a number on him. And many other people in that humid house o’ tears… But he composed himself, and went back to support the team. He was finished for the day, but didn’t want to leave until the end.

Once it was over, they all huddled together, and did one final cheer. Those kids have spent enormous amounts of time together, and now it’s done.

That night, he and his girlfriend went to Philadelphia, to see a concert by someone I don’t know: Nick Waterhouse. I have no idea.

This was something Toney and I discussed at length, and we finally gave him our blessing. However, the whole thing made my sphincter wink. He’s 17, and wasn’t exactly raised on the mean streets, if you know what I’m saying. The thought of him driving 140 miles to the heart of Philly on a Saturday night, caused me gastrointestinal distress.

Everything turned out OK, except for one thing… He didn’t check in when we asked him to, and didn’t answer his phone for long stretches of time. We’d set up several ground rules, and one was that he’d text us when he got there, when he was leaving, and when he made it back to the turnpike. Three quick check-ins, so we’d know he was OK.

He missed the first one completely, and I was flipping out. We called his phone, and got no answer, over and over. Toney called the girl’s phone, and it went straight to voicemail. What the hell?? I had all sorts of visions flashing through my head.

Toney said, “You need to calm down, or you’re going to have a stroke.” That kid checks his phone every minute, and we hadn’t heard from him in hours. Why was he not responding?? I was pacing the house, putting my shoes on, taking them off… I was losing it, man.

Then, both of them texted us at the same time: “Sorry, we forgot. We’re fine.” Grrr…

He did check-in when they were leaving, but missed their “back on the turnpike” text. And, once again, wouldn’t answer the phone. So, I was freaking out one more time. Not as bad as the first go ’round, but close.

And I want to be clear. I wouldn’t have called him at all, if he’d just sent the three texts I asked of him. He sends roughly a million texts per day, so this was not exactly a taxing request. I wouldn’t have bothered him, if he’d just done what we asked. As it turned out, the whole evening was an exercise in me trying not to shit my pants.

But, they made it without incident, and apparently had fun. The next day I gave him low-wattage grief over not doing what we’d asked, but I didn’t make a huge deal out of it. It was a triumph for him, and I didn’t want to spoil it.

For a Question, I’d like to know about the times you’ve gotten lost. I know everybody has GPS on their phones now, but hopefully some of you have some good “getting lost” stories to tell from the pre-smartphone era. Please use the comments link below.

Glad he made it there and back successfully. I understand the panic!
I recently moved to the San Francisco area and I am already directionally-challenged. Hell, even WITH a GPS on my phone and written out directions I still get lost.
Right before my move I switched phones from iPhone (which I’ve had from the beginning) to a Samsung Galaxy S4. Holy hell, I can’t tell you how much I hated the Galaxy (and still have issues with). For instance, although I live outside of SF now I rarely ever go into the city because it is a clusterfuck of traffic and one-way streets and other nonsense. But this past weekend I was coming back from a conference when my boyfriend texted me saying he & his visiting mother were in SF and why don’t I meet them? What should have been a quick jaunt to a park they were at turned into two hours of me getting insanely lost and calling him several times telling him I was afraid I was headed to Oregon. I pulled over more than once, found “directions” my stupid phone gave me, only for them to change ?!!!! as I was driving. Needless to say by the time I found them I quickly got out of my car and demanded they take me somewhere that held liquor. Lots and lots of liquor. The rest of the night was great!

Back in the day, there was a great club in DC that was in an old wax museum. The only way I knew how to get there was, drive into DC on NY ave. Get lost. When the Air and Space Museum was on the left, make your next right and you were there.
I never learned any other way.
Sadly, now it is a subway (train not sandwich) station.

Driving half-awake at high speeds…. I can think of about 100 Jeff-isms to describe how I feel about that one. Might as well have been behind the wheel updating your site from your cell while hitting on a bottle of 151.

We went to Minnesota every year for vacation–we live in Central Illinois. One year my brother rode back with my grandparents. Grandma did not drive so her job was to read the map. She told Grampa to take the next exit and he told her that was wrong. Long story short, my brother saw the Dakotas, Nebraska and Iowa–extending his vacation by more than a week. Were they lost? Not according to Grampa!!!

As a parent of two swimmers, who swam in college too, I totally understand the feeling of… almost grief, after the huge commitment to swimming and the feeling of loss when it is done. What great memories though and the people we’ve met have been amazing!

As for the texting, my daughter certainly got the embarassing phone call from the parents when she didn’t check in. But rules are rules, and if followed, we would have no problems!

I do not miss those days. At all. I could never go to sleep until the boy was at home. No matter the time. I spent many hours by the front door (like a crazy lady) watching for his truck to pull up because he would never, ever answer his phone after midnight. Favorite excuse–dead battery. I dropped my first f-bomb on him at 3:00 a.m. when he was 16. As in “Where the fuck are you?” He was at home pretty shortly thereafter. Didn’t change until he moved out last year–at 28 years old. Now I can go three or four days without hearing from him without a care.

After failing nav/map training in the Army, I come back home and have only been lost once. I have missed plenty of turns or went the wrong direction and what not, but have never been truly ‘lost’ since that one time.

Bonus: it was in East St Louis, probably the scariest place you would NOT want to get lost in.

I got very lost going for a job interview. The office was on West Main Street. Well, how the fuck was I supposed to know West Main Street was also Rte 1, Also The Boston Post Road, The Post Road and about 6 other names for the same goddamn street. I was hyperventilating when I showed up 45 minutes late. But yeah, I got that job and it was the best, craziest bunch of folks I ever had the pleasure of working for.

Another time, Beloved was reading his little GPS doo-hickey thing while I was driving from Mass to New York. All I wanted was to find 495 – hell ANY highway would do. He had me go down a one way street and so help me God, I almost kicked him out of a moving vehicle.

I don’t feel like I’m ever lost since I know exactly how I got wherever I am.

But I do recall a time I made an incorrect turn or merge east of Atlanta and ended up in rural South Carolina instead of the army base in Augusta.

I quickly consulted he truckers atlas I always carried and wound up taking a two lane road along the state line south east until it got me back to the highway where I could come up on the base from the east rather than the west.

Luckily I had left plenty early and was not late for my appointments there.

On a side note, I just read what I wrote and the only adjective I can come up with is: gripping. The only reason I didn’t just delete it is that I spent a lot of time typing it all out on my phone and want some record of the many minutes (of mine, and now of yours) recording this stirring journey for posterity.

How is he supposed to text you if he is on the turnpike? Texting and driving ain’t a good mix.

My driving philosophy if ending up lost is, take out the map and see where I am. Though, since I’ve been a kid, and I do it to now, is taking driving trips that amount to: Lets take this road and see where it goes. So being lost isn’t really in the picture since we are always where we where going… somewhere down this road or that road, we’ll always get somewhere. =-)

I got lost just a month ago; missed the exit for the Jersey Turnpike off the GW bridge, and ended up wandering around the picturesque “Ironbound District” of Newark. I’ve only made this drive, like, hundreds of times. Jeez.
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I had a new job and a new apartment several years ago, and was not yet familiar with all the roads and landmarks between the two. Because the roads in this new-to-me area weren’t set up in a standard north-south/east-west grid like I was used to, I got very lost late on a damp, foggy Sunday night and wound up nearly 30 miles off course. The fog grew heavier and heavier, and combined with curvy, unknown-by-me roads, I ended up way off the coverage area of the one map I had. My sense of direction was completely gone. Adding to the fun, I wound up on a narrow dirt road, almost got stuck in mud, almost hit two deer (on two separate occasions), and couldn’t find a single business open to ask for directions. It was only around 9:00 on a Sunday night, but everything was closed up tight, even the few fast food chains and gas stations I passed. I finally found a signed state highway, and was able to work my way back to where I wanted to be. It was a weird, frustrating experience…

What an idiot, for “safety” purposes he tells his son to text him, WHILE he’s driving, ON the turnpike no less!!

Do you realize you asked your son to break the law and put the lives of himself, his passenger and anyone in an adjacent lane at risk? All so YOU could “feel safe” about his whereabouts.

Also When you’re driving with music blasting you’re not going to hear your phone but he should have texted when he got there though, that is not something to glaze over. For reneging on that crucial deal you had in place, I would definitely hand down some type of punishment if I was his father, without question. But the whole “text me while you’re driving” so I know your safe right before you get into an accident while sending the text I requested, you should face some type of penalty for being an idiot.

As for the “worries,” I must admit I worry a hell of a lot less in the age of cell phones than I did when the only cell phones were Zack Morris phones and car phones=Peter Gunn/Mannix/Cannon/Kojak-types.

As a former teen, I remember not bothering to call (then again, I wasn’t driving, the pay phones didn’t work, and I WAS close to home) and I remember how pissed my parents looked. Funny enough, the reason why I was late was because of another parent who decided to run a few errands before dropping us off. Of course now “all” I have to do is worry about parents and an older sister. No children for me–it would run my luck that they’d be like me!

D’oh! This was supposed to be about getting lost–I’ve been lost in East St. Louis, in Jefferson County and in St. Charles County…and they were equally terrifying. (Ah, the age of depending on gas stations and pay phones!)

Yet another literal fool. You must not have any common sense whatsoever to go on and pontificate that Jeff actually would ask his child to text while driving. You’re just the kind of douchebags that we mock on here.

1 don’t get lost btw , 1’m not a moron . driving is 2nd nature to meh , 1 could be asleep at the wheel and arrive safe and sound . now getting to work on time that’s a whole nother ballgame . 1 have a mental block against getting to work on time . One day 1 may be fired for this ongoing offense and on that day 1 will go to my car , return , and open fire on my boss .

One of my favorite movies is falling down 1 hope to live out one day .

Check in means check in, whether we’re 7, 17, 27 or 57. It’s a dangerous world, and we make agreements with those we love to let them know how we’re doing. We either keep our word or we don’t. Everything else is fine print. Give the kid hell, then a kiss or a handshake.

Driving in Mexico looking for dig sites. Husband driving, teenage daughter ( a swimmer too) in the back. We think we found the turn off when…..BAM BAM squeeeeek. Pot holes and 2 flat tires. In the middle of the jungle and know idea where we are. … Alone. You know we survived but the rest of story is for another time.

Cheers Jeff on all you’ve sacrificed as a swim parent. He’ll never forget it. In fact, I appreciate what my parents gave up for me more every day…even 18 or so years later. I ended up with a full ride to a great university so they got a little payback, but I’m not sure it was enough to cover all of those miserable weekends spent in natatoriums and 5 AM carpools for God knows how many years (18?).

I remember taking off my suit for the last time like it was yesterday. I was in the Auburn, Alabama locker room, alone because I had jumped in the warm down pool after my last race and couldn’t make myself stop swimming. There was no point…I was done forever, but I couldn’t come to terms with it. Someone had to get off the bus to come find me and I was just sitting there staring straight ahead asking myself, “what now?”. I was truly in shock. Of course we all went out that night, tore the town to pieces, chased lots of southern ass and all was well with the world. The page was turned!

I got lost right after I moved to Alabama. I was going off of written directions to get to someone’s house out in the sticks. The directions were crap and I ended up on country roads with 40 foot deep ditches off to either side. I drove and drove until I finally found a store. I went in and asked the guy where I was several times. He kept telling me but I couldn’t understand him. I asked him to write it down and what he wrote was just as absurd as the noise coming out of his mouth (rhjkwl or something like that) but I could tell that I was now in Tennessee!!!!!

I drove for hours until I started seeing signs for Nashville. I finally made it there and stayed in a hotel, they gave me directions back to Huntsville, AL.

I barely escaped with my life. It was real touch and go for a while there. I considered drinking my own piss and things like that. “Road madness” I think they call it.

hey just checking in.. and yeah where the hell is Bikerchick? Hi Madz and the guys!

I have to make sure I check in with my best friend and brother just so they know they don’t have to knock down my door to find me at the foot of the stairs (hey, i’ve only fallen down one time).. ahhh the joys of living alone

When it comes to boyfriend/girlfriend relationships and yours is out of town and does not “check in” or has a “dead battery” for hours and hours….they are cheating!!!! I gave my non-checking in bastard the benefit of the doubt whenever he went to Chicago to see his dying grandma. There is no excuse in our modern world to not be able to reach out and let people know you are alive. BTW, there was no grandma and I was the “other woman”!!!

As the parent of a kid who swam from 8 years old through High School, I can relate. They can be as goofy and crazy as any teens, but the sport does teach them how to focus, gives them a tremendous work ethic, and their cardio vascular systems are fit for life. Never worried too much about the daughter when she was out with other swimmers. The first “moment” came when she went off to college in southern Connecticut and let her mom know that she was taking the train into NYC for the day…alone…and that she would call when she got back to school if she though of it. She did…